Timkin's head was too light and buzzy to reach the total.
"But I'm rich," he exulted. "Filthy rich. Gold is even more valuable today than it used to be on earth in the old days."
Timkin was right. Contrary to all fanciful and unfounded predictions, gold had never lost its value. True, the nations of earth had all gone off the gold-standard in the 20th century and for a while gold was a forgotten metal, buried in vaults.
But then it came into its own as one of the most non-corrodable metals. When space travel came into being, an alloy of gold became the standard coating for all equipment used on other worlds, some of which had noxious atmospheres that could rust iron or copper in days to worthless dust.
But gold in its alloy-hardened form defied the worst other worlds had to offer. Thereupon gold became a metal of commerce and its value rose even higher than its one-time value as a money standard.
And so, with his find of gold, Homer Timkin was as suddenly wealthy as any Spanish explorer of the New World, back in earth's past.
"It's sure going to be a pleasure," crowed Timkin, "to drag this lump of gold back to Titan!"
"Yeh, it is—for me!"
Timkin jumped at the sound of the voice behind him, coming out of nowhere. He turned, gaping, to see another man in a vac-suit slowly approaching, with a reaction pistol. Timkin could see the newcomer's Jetabout now, parked alongside his own. Timkin had been too engrossed in his find to see the approach of the ship.